


What Is And Never Could Be

by Bizarre_Heathen



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Sexism, Spoilers, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bizarre_Heathen/pseuds/Bizarre_Heathen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Diana’s attempts to help Bruce with his grief after Dawn of Justice send him in an alternate timeline, an Omegaverse parallel, where there is a Superman (An actual asshole), but it’s not his Clark.</p><p>Bruce finds himself trying to get back to his world, and falling in love with a certain omega in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This deviates from when Dawn of Justice ends.  
> There might be triggers. Please read tags carefully.  
> This is Omegaverse. Please hit back button if not comfortable.  
> Henry is 6-1 and Ben is 6-4. Take from that from what you will…  
> Will continue to warn if more stuff comes up. Basically I am not that great. Just couldn’t resist writing fic.

“His performance is suffering!”

Alfred gives the amazon a blank look. “Miss Prince.”

“Call me Diana,” The otherworldly woman suggests. They are in this together. They should be on a first name basis.

“Diana.” Alfred nods. “I know him. This is what it is.”

“He has a death wish.” Diana paces back and forth and throws her hands up, frustrated. “He is reckless.”

“Miss…” Alfred starts and then corrects himself with a tight smile. “Diana.”

“Alfred.” The warrior princess stops in her manic walk around the cave. She admires Bruce for what he is, a champion among men. But at the end of the day he is, after all, just a man. He needs rest. He needs to let go of this insane level of guilt which is eating him up inside and won’t let him see any reason.

“Emotional stability is not Master Wayne’s biggest strength.” Alfred deadpans. “You can expect anything else, but not that.”

“He said he would bring us all together.” Wonder Woman sighs, “It’s not possible with him like this. He needs help.”

“Superman’s death had an effect.” Alfred reminds Diana. “On all of us. Master Wayne is no different, no matter how much he would like to be.”

“He’s careless.” Diana gestures to the footage still playing in the background, of Batman getting injured, a sight miraculous in itself for it’s rarity because the man is a fighter tank in himself. “Tell me he can be stopped.”

“I wish someone would tell me that when he was in his twenties.” Alfred says wistfully. “When he first started.”

“Alfred,” Diana looks more worried than when she first arrived in all her ethereal glory, which is the butler’s fault of course.

“I will do what I can.” Alfred is tired himself. There is a bone deep exhaustion which can only come from watching over the bat for years and Alfred is starting to feel it. “Forgive me if I make no promises.”

“Fix it or I will.” Diana’s words are ominous. Alfred cannot find himself to feel threatened.

\----------

“Do I need to fire you?” Perry’s tone isn’t even threatening. “Lois please, just take the damn vacation.”

“I can’t.” Lois doesn’t bother looking up from her keyboard. This is her vacation. If she goes home she will just ending up thinking about him again and that’s just a bad place to end up in her grief. “Please just let me do work.”

“You need rest.” Perry sounds just as fed up with Lois as she herself is. “Give yourself time.”

“To do what?” Lois’ question is pretty valid because he isn’t coming back. In any capacity. Superman or otherwise.

“Do I need to dump your computer in the trash?” Perry asks next and Lois finds herself clutching her purse and walking away from her boss. She feels a little bad about her sullen behaviour or at least tries to because the guy has been a saint lately, trying his best to put up with her crap. Lois is so tired.

Clark is gone and Lois is still walking around with his ring. There is emptiness in the air with Superman’s passing which is just plain horrifying. The entire world is mourning but no one knows Lois’ pain. She is alone in her agony.

Perhaps not completely.

She sighs at the statuesque figure waiting for her outside the Planet building. To see Wonder Woman fight Doomsday is one thing. To see her in plain (designer) clothing in broad daylight is another. “How can I help you?” Lois’ tone is clipped. She can’t even feel guilty anymore.

“I need you to talk to him.”

Lois knows who exactly who the amazon is referring to. “And what can I tell your friend what you can’t?” If Lois had any kind of influence in the world the love of her life wouldn’t be six feet under. Here she stands, uselessly wearing his ring.

“He’s suicidal.”

“He’s been that way a while.” Batman risks his life and saves his city. It’s his thing.

“Can we talk? I know this restaurant. I think you will like it.”

Lois shrugs. She would have gone home and straight to bed anyway.

The restaurant Lois is supposed to like is way above her pay grade. Thank god Wonder Woman seems to be in a paying mood.

“He will die.” Diana murmurs as Lois stares at her plate of pricey uneaten food. Seriously, this stuff costs more than a month’s salary. “He’s not even trying to dodge blows anymore.”

“Where is that accent from?” Lois wonders aloud, asking no one in particular because she knows the woman in question won’t answer.

“Superman’s death affected all of us,” Diana says carefully, watching Lois’ reaction, the ring on her finger. “Batman is no different.”

Lois can’t remember the last time she slept an entire night. Like an actual night without waking up halfway through. She always rouses in cold sweat. Clark used to be her saving grace against the world’s chaos. Now Clark’s memory is her chaos.

“He’s suffering.”

“I am sorry for his loss.” Lois bites out and then regrets it. Like it or not Superman belonged to the entire planet, even if Clark was just hers and Martha’s.

“Will you speak with him?”

“Is it seriously Bruce Wayne?” Lois asks. The journalist in her is curious. The woman in her even more so. Clark knew for sure but he never told her.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Fine,” Lois takes a bit of the crumpet and makes a face. “Is this people food?” It tastes too expensive to be people food. Maybe be one of those highly bred dogs could stomach this but not Lois. She is on a chips and soda diet these days. 

“I will text you the meeting time and place.” Diana smiles and stands up to take her leave.

“You don’t have my number.” Lois should probably change her cell one of these days but she keeps it the same in hopes Clark will rise from the dead and message her.

“Don’t be silly, I have my ways.” Diana is already half way across the restaurant.

“The bill has been taken care of. More coffee madam?” The waiter has a French accent. Of course he does.

“Whiskey please.” Lois groans and wonders which way to her apartment. She doesn’t even remember how she got here.

\----------

“I am supposed to meet Lois Lane?” Bruce squints at the sudden blurriness of his vision. It should worry him how sudden the world seems to shift in and out of focus.

“Oh are you?” Alfred looks stunningly innocent. Uninformed. Uncharacteristic.

“You are up to something.” Bruce states facts. “I don’t care.”

“Very well.” Alfred nods, “Supper?”

“Our one remaining link is gone.” Bruce thinks aloud, hoping Alfred will just say something already instead of making him work for it. “Why does she need to see me?”

“I am finally getting heirs?” Alfred throws because why not. The woman in question is beautiful.

“She is wearing a dead man’s ring on her finger.”

“I will never hold another Wayne baby in my arms will I?”

“Coffee please.” If Bruce is to stay awake for this meeting with Lois he needs something. “Put ten shots of espresso in it.”

“Maybe I should just hold you.” Alfred throws his hands up and boy this is a tantrum Bruce doesn’t need at seven in the evening. “There’s a Wayne baby.”

The message from Lane delivered by Diana is short and cryptic. _Can we meet?_ Too little for even Bruce’s brain to decipher. “What does she want?”

“I don’t know,” Alfred flat out lies, not even bothering to hide his facial expressions and Bruce can’t find it in himself to be annoyed.

Metropolis isn’t on the other side of the world, but it isn’t exactly next door, and Bruce finds himself wishing he had Clark’s speed and knowing the man’s name doesn’t help this hollowness the world seems to be carrying lately.

“Hi,” She’s waiting on top of the Planet’s building, just as she promised. “Batman.” There are circles underneath her eyes, looking odd on an otherwise youthful face.

“Miss Lane,” Bruce tries not to stare at the ring, he really does. “How can I help you?”

“How are you?”

“I am hours away from Gotham.” Batman reminds the woman. “Tell me it’s not to exchange pleasantries.” He is truly exhausted.

“You are being unsafe out there.”

“I am a vigilante.” Batman feels the need to remind Lois.

“More so than usual.” Lois continues. “Reckless. The Joker almost got you last week. If this continues…”

“You are concerned about me.” Bruce means to keep the awe out of his tone, he really does.

“Please…”

“Wonder Woman.” Batman reaches his conclusion easily enough. “She put you up to this.”

“Stop trying to kill yourself.” She is sincere. It’s appreciated.

“Have a good night.”

“You too,” Lois shudders and makes her way to the stairway, wishing for a certain embrace to just carry her so many floors down. She spent the longest time resisting Clark’s chivalrous offers when she would do anything for a simple show of his miraculous powers again.

\----------

“I do not appreciate your meddling.” Bruce growls at the amazon. “How dare you?”

She stares back calmly, and that pisses off Bruce even more. He does not appreciate being treated like some child. A spoiled child. He gets that treatment enough. He doesn’t need it from this meta.

“I am trying to help, Bruce.” Diana whispers, “I know what loss feels like.”

There is a recollection. A human male standing beside Diana in that black and white picture. A handsome man but a dead one but Bruce is angry and like all mortal men he responds to rage with stupidity. “It’s not the same.”

“You lost someone.” Diana implores, “Loss is the same for everyone.”

“He wasn’t mine to lose.”

“Superman was everyone’s to lose.”

Bruce used a radioactive rock to beat a superhero when his mother was kidnapped out of some misguided sense of good. It’s not the same. “I need you to stay out of this.”

“You said you would bring us together.” Diana reminds Bruce and he is starting to realize her stamina is actually more than his. He didn’t think that was possible before meta humans came along. Are the others like her? The speedster? The water dweller? The cyber… thing? How is batman supposed to deal with these superhumans?

“I don’t want to deal with any of you anymore.” Bruce shouldn’t talk to a woman who took on Doomsday with a _lasso_ but he isn’t functioning at a hundred percent emotional stability.

“Don’t make me do this.” Diana sighs and Bruce gets even madder because she has no right to sound tired.

“Do what exactly?”

“Do something drastic.” Diana leans toward the screen, where Batman takes a near fatal hit, almost falling to his death as a bullet gets a seam of his costume.

“Do your worst.” Bruce shakes his head and in hindsight, that was a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

Diana’s powers are questionable at best, and when Bruce wakes after her spell he feels no different. Everything seems the same, except when it isn’t.

“You scared me.” Alfred huffs and makes a right fuss around him. The kind he doesn’t make unless Bruce is fatally injured.

“She did something.” Bruce gasps. “The amazon.”

“What was that?” Alfred straightens and tucks the bed sheets tighter around Bruce’s body, as if swathing a baby. “You were with an alpha female again last night? What is with you and dominants?”

“What?” Bruce makes a confused sound. His body feels strange. There is an ache between his legs. His back hurts.

“Am I ever going to get heirs from you?” Alfred scolds Bruce, “Oh what omega will put up with this?” He gestures to the bat cowl nearby, carelessly resting on the bedside table.

“Oh god,” Bruce is seriously disorientated right now.

“Serves you right.” Alfred retrieves the cowl, “Spending your rut with another alpha. A female at that. They are getting worse you know. You are too old to die young.”

“You said that,” Bruce squints at the morning light which feels like the tunnel at the end of the world. One disadvantage of living in a glass structure next to a reflective lake.

“Excuse me?” Alfred pauses.

“You never repeat yourself.” Bruce sits up and groans at the pain below his waist which intensifies. “Ever.”

“Oh you just keep at it.” Alfred huffs and places a breakfast tray nearby. “See if I care.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Please do enlighten me if you figure it out.” Alfred is seriously upset and Bruce finds himself making a run for the bathroom just to get away from the intense irritation.

Relieving himself is one thing, the new addition to his penis is quite traumatizing, and Bruce has to lower himself in the bathtub to make sense of this new information.

 _Am I a dog?_ Is Bruce’s first thought. Dogs have knots. Bruce has a knot. He must be a dog.

His thought process is much less complicated than it usually is. _I am definitely a dog._ Bruce thinks mournfully and lets out a loud, anguished howl, which further affirms his theory.

“Master Wayne?” Alfred calls out from outside. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy.” Bruce moans in despair, “What’s with the knot?”

There is a moment of thoughtful consideration which is so Alfred, Bruce could cry. Some things are always the same, no matter what freak accident. “Please, explain, what about your knot?”

“Why do I have it?”

“Oh dear,” Alfred sighs, “Master Wayne, did the alpha female hit your head? Again? Those ladies are so freakishly violent.”

 _Alpha…_ Bruce’s mind ponders over the word. Another term never thrown around before. Along with omega and knot. “Alfred?” He calls out.

“Master Wayne.”

“Pass me a laptop please.”

There is a worrying silence, and if this world doesn’t have computers Bruce will personally check out; but Alfred obliges and instants later Bruce has a mac in his hands. He is doing a basic internet search instead of his usual encrypted work because he has a feeling whatever Alfred is saying warrants Google’s expertise.

Alpha: dominant. Undergoes ruts. Male produces sperm. Female impregnates… somehow. Science hasn’t figured out how yet.

Omega: Submissive. Heats. Male and female pregnancy. Produce eggs.

Betas: No ruts or heats. Bruce prays Alfred is one.

Superman: Godly being protecting the world.

Bruce feels a relief which threatens to crush him. “Oh god.” Somewhere out there Clark is alive and well and Bruce could cry.

Everything is okay. Whatever Wonder Woman did worked and he could kiss her. She’s probably an alpha female, isn’t she?

Bruce roars out a laughs and stands up. “Alfred!” He jumps out of his bathtubs and rushes out, “Daily Planet.”

“Excuse me?” Alfred looks as if he is going to call a car to the nearest psych ward immediately, which so just happens to be Arkham.

“Now.” Bruce’s heart is beating in his chest. He needs to see Clark. Considering how calm it is in the news, Bruce should be able to catch Superman in a few hours. “Daily Planet please.”

“The board needs to see you.” Alfred frowns disapprovingly as Bruce picks out a suit for himself and starts dressing. “You have been out of your mind for a week, Master Wayne. Please make an appearance at Wayne Enterprises.”

“The Planet, now please.” Bruce’s tone is clipped.

“That’s not one of ours,” Alfred sighs but obliges and makes a call.

“Then buy it.” Bruce shrugs and laughs a little. He feels giddy. Diana fixed it. The goddess. Bruce needs to find her and buy her something… What does one get a warrior princess?

The ride over to Metropolis is nerve wrecking. What will Bruce even say? He looks down at the view the helicopter ride presents and sighs. _Oh god this is insane._

People stare when he takes the elevator up and asks for Clark Kent. Not many know who the man is, which is good for a superhero’s identity but worse for Bruce’s nerves. By the time he arrives at the correct floor he’s a right mess.

“Bruce Wayne?” The man in charge greets him with curiosity, “Perry White,” He introduces himself with a handshake and somehow Bruce _knows_ he’s a beta, “We have been trying to get an interview for years.”

“Clark Kent please,” Bruce is not usually this impatient. He chocks it up to this alpha/omega/beta mess. He needs to investigate it as soon as he gets a damn chance but Superman first.

“We have more seasoned reporters.” Perry White’s eyebrows threaten to disappear into his hairline. “You are asking for Clark by name because?”

Bruce remembers Clark’s issues with Gotham and smiles, “He has a problem with Batman. I wanted to discuss.”

“I didn’t let him publish that article.” Perry frowns, “How do you know about that?”

“I read it online myself.” Bruce doesn’t mean to get Clark in trouble but honestly the guy can handle it. “Figures I confront the accuser on behalf of Gotham since Batman can’t come out in broad daylight and do it himself.”

“Oh god damn it,” Perry growls and barks, “Clark!”

“Stop it,” Lois appears out of nowhere and she is glowing and beautiful and _alpha,_ “Don’t you dare talk to him like that.”

“I told him not to publish that Gotham thing and look,” Perry gestures to Bruce, as if he is damning evidence.

“I don’t care what’s happened,” Lois stares at Bruce, quieting down a little. “Leave Clark alone.”

“He gets away with whatever he wants because of his gender and you know it!” Perry snaps at Lois because he can. Bruce knows she can handle it.

“I will deal with this.” Lois turns to Bruce. “Mr. Wayne, Clark gets a little passionate. Please leave him alone. I apologise on his behalf.”

“I still need to see him.” Bruce insists. “Please.”

“You know what he is and you only care about alpha posturing.” Lois shakes her head in disbelief. “You are the reason the rest of us get a bad rep.”

“Miss Lane…” Bruce starts to say and stops for a moment to think because he honestly doesn’t know how to respond to this.

“Lois, stop.” There’s the voice Bruce came to hear and he could cry and he _is_ going to cry if he doesn’t get a hold of himself soon. “Please.”

“Clark, get out of here.” Lois orders. Honest to god orders her co-worker in a direction which leads him out of Bruce’s sight because she is truly that cruel.

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark Kent looks perfectly fine. Ridiculously wholesome farm boy looks and all. Those glasses concealing crystal blue eyes and an earnest expression. Bruce is definitely going to cry. “I apologize.”

“For what?” Lois growls and it’s definitely different from when Perry did it. It’s an alpha’s growl, feminine and adorable, but powerful. “Writing a damn article?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir.” The way Clark says those words messes with Bruce’s head a little and what’s happening?

“It’s fine,” Bruce manages to communicate and his voice seems to be coming from far, far away. “I still need to speak to you, Mr. Kent.”

“You have spoken enough.” Lois bristles protectively and Bruce thinks nothing of it because he’s seen this before. Hell she threw himself between Batman and Superman. This is absolutely nothing in comparison.

“Lois, I am fine,” Clark reigns in the alpha and Bruce can’t recognize his scent. It’s something else. He thinks it’s his usual otherworldly quality at play. “Where do we need to talk?”

“I am not leaving you alone with him.” Lois hisses at Clark, her arm on his forearm possessive, and Bruce can’t see any kind of ring on her finger anymore.

“You can come too,” Bruce promises the alpha female and then instantly regrets it. He wants to scent Clark, figure out what that allure is.

“Fine,” Lois sighs, obviously reigning herself back in. Bruce doesn’t know much about this alpha/beta crap, but it’s obvious her self-control is learned, and not effortless. Bruce is having trouble controlling his new set of instincts.

“Well isn’t this just spectacular.” Perry turns on Lois, “Two of my writers stepping out in the middle of a workday.”

“It’s three-thirty,” Is Lois’ dry response. “And we are technically still going to work.”

“You stay right here,” If looks could kill Lois would be dead already. Perry is furious. “Your work is due yesterday.”

“But Clark…”

“Is a grown ass man.” Perry reminds Lois, “And as a journalist is required to independently go where a story shall lead him.”

“This isn’t really…” Clark timidly starts to amend and then stops when both Lois and Perry turn to him with pure annoyance in their eyes.

“I will bring him back in one piece.” Bruce isn’t sure what he can do to Superman but if he manages it, he’s not exactly someone who can disappear after the fact. Being Bruce Wayne has a certain notoriety to it in any reality.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lois stiffens. Apparently Bruce has touched a nerve.

“Relax, for the love of god, Kent is not carrying your mark,” Perry throws his hands up and exclaims loudly. This remark has both Lois and Clark blushing a deep red. Bruce definitely needs to do more research into this universe.

“Mr. Wayne, let’s just go.” Clark lowers his head and waits for Bruce to lead him toward the elevators.

“I don’t know Metropolis that well,” Bruce lies and makes Clark go ahead of him. Something about Clark’s behaviour is starting to… scare him. In a very bad way.

“Very good, Clark,” Perry’s tone manages to be both patronizing and encouraging at the same time, “Use your words.”

“I might just punch him,” Bruce murmurs as he follows Clark, feeling oddly defensive of someone indestructible.

“No please don’t,” Clark’s eyes are wide, “He means well.”

“Okay,” Bruce stands close despite super hearing because he needs to whisper, “How are you?”

“Oh,” Clark blushes even more, “Okay, you?”

 _He doesn’t know me,_ Bruce realizes, “Clark, we need to talk.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark looks as if he will run away any second and considering what Bruce knows of his speed he could be on the other side of the planet in seconds, “You are being a little forward.”

Bruce needs time to process this information.

“I realize you are from a big city, but I am from a small town and we do things differently there.” Clark keeps his eyes lowered. “Now I don’t know how you got your eyes on my article because I legitimately didn’t publish it. I have been hacked before though. I am still very sorry.  I was hoping for an interview, but judging for how strongly you feel for the bat vigilante I realize that might be asking for too much.”

 _Oh dear lord,_ Bruce knows he’s in trouble because he’s hearing Alfred in his head. “Sure,” He manages to blurt after panicking for a full elevator ride down twenty floors because oh god why? “Interview, of course.”

“Really?” Clark lights up like the sun he supposedly feeds off of. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne. You won’t regret it.”

Oh, Bruce regrets everything.

The ride to a restaurant finds Clark fidgeting and trying to inch as far away from Bruce as possible. The actions are subconscious and not at all intended as any kind of insult, Bruce realizes. The man is seriously feeling demure and needs to keep his distance from _Mr. Wayne…_ who is some kind of alpha devil.

“Umm,” Clark coughs and begins nervously, as if the action requires great strength. “Do you mind if I record the interview?”

“Our initial conversation, yes.” Bruce squints, “the actual questioning, sure.”

Clark seems unsure but nods. Bruce’s driver drops him off at his usual favourite haunt in Metropolis, where the Maître D’ greets Bruce with a flirtatious wink.

“You said you didn’t know this city,” Clark forgets his submissive demeanour for a minute.

“I honestly wasn’t sure if I did?” Bruce shrugs. This seems to be a strange universe. How was he supposed to know the restaurant he frequented without a knot would be here?

Without a knot. Hmm.

“I am starting to feel scared.” Clark admits, crossing his arms defensively. “Are you trying to trick me into a date?”

Bruce feels pretty scared himself, and considering he tried to fight fucking Superman with nothing but a fancy space rock, yeah, this is the first time he’s felt uncomfortable around him and that’s saying something. “No, Clark. Please.”

“It won’t be the first time,” Clark follows Bruce to his usual booth, facing a breath-taking view of Metropolis, and yeah, thank god some things are still the same, even if Bruce’s genitals are not. “You won’t believe what kind of things alphas pull with omegas.”

Hmm. Bruce needs a psychiatrist. Giant bat fighting crime and all.

“Oh boy,” Bruce rubs his eyes, “You are an omega? You are fucking with me.”

Clark colours, “Wow these scent neutralizers must be amazing,” he takes a sniff of his own coat, “Yes,” He giggles a little and Bruce is sold, “I am an omega.” He looks visibly more relaxed. “Couldn’t you tell before? Is it the shoulders?”

 _It’s the superman and the heat vision and the flying and all that…_ “No.” Bruce nods when menus are presented and declines any kind of drinks despite desperately wanting and needing one (thirty), “It’s the confidence.”

“Oh,” Clark’s smile could bring a dead kitten back to life, and Bruce has seen him rescue those from trees, so whatever. “Thank you so much. I have been working so hard on my social issues.”

 _Oh boy,_ Alfred speaks again and Bruce needs to go lie down. This trip, without any kind of research or prep was a really bad idea.

“I have been dealing with a lot of aggressive guys lately,” Clark adjusts his glasses, sighing a little, staring at the menu with dispirited blue eyes, “I am sorry if that leaked into my professional life. You shouldn’t have to deal with that because of your gender.”

Bruce belatedly remembers he’s a playboy. “Well you are very easy on the eyes.” Omega or not Clark has a perfect appearance and nature could not mess that up in any life. Some things are a constant. Albeit Bruce has gone from wanting to punch that stupidly flawless face to punch people who made that sad expression happen.

“Why thank you, Mr. Wayne, you are not so bad yourself.” Clark is much more confident now. More himself, “Any love interests?”

“No?” Alfred was furious about the Wayne baby issue this morning, so Bruce is pretty sure he is still unattached. “Can we talk about our thing first, Clark.”

“Sure,” Clark sighs at the menu, “The Planet won’t pay for this menu, Mr. Wayne.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bruce shrugs it off. He makes in a second what Clark probably does in a year, billionaire and all that, again some things are a constant, “I need your recording device please.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about which is that important?” Clark shakes his head but hands over his phone as asked.

“Superman.” Bruce pockets Clark’s phone after making sure it’s off.

“What about him?” Clark looks extremely interested all of a sudden.

“Superman,” Bruce leans in close. “How’s it going?”

Clark cocks his head to the side like a cute husky, and then starts laughing hysterically. “Oh my god. You are silly.”

The alpha gentlemen nearby pause in their conversation and look over, their pupils dilated. Before Bruce realizes what’s he’s doing, he growls, a deep rumble which starts low in his stomach. He’s got to watch that when he’s patrolling.

“Wayne?” One of the businessmen has a hint of recognition in his eyes, “You asshole? You made it to our neck of the woods without being noticed?”

Bruce doesn’t know this man but smiles like he does.

“You lied about being in a hormone storm to get out of hanging with us or did you?” The other alpha, clearly younger, maybe the older man’s son, turns to Clark, “Oh I see what got you out of your rut so early.”

“Gentleman if you could call me later tonight,” Bruce smirks charmingly, being as plastic as possible, a winner, “Your lunch is on me.”

“You’re damn right it is.” The father grins. The son still hasn’t stop staring at Clark. “Looks like young Donner here sees something he likes.” A card is passed toward Clark. “When you’re done playing with Brucie here, give my son a call, gorgeous.”

“I am sorry,” Bruce apologizes at Clark’s mortified expression.

“No worries.” Clark pockets the card. “I will give this to someone who needs it.”

“Do I want to know?” Bruce grins at Clark’s vengeful expression.

“Oh a rich alpha’s card can get me a lot of information.” Clark scoffs at the idiot still staring at him.

“Look,” Bruce whispers real low, “There is a rock in the Indian Ocean, it could hurt you. We need to get to it before certain nefarious sources.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark looks confused, “What are you talking about?”

“Call me Bruce,” Before said billionaire can continue, Superman chooses that moment to fly by the floor length restaurant windows, and there is a moment of speechlessness that lasts a good twenty minutes. The patrons of the restaurant cheer, as much as a stunned billionaire and many, many snooty Wall Street new money millionaires can really hoot.

“He does that sometimes,” Clark pouts, “I could have gotten a picture, but _someone_ ,” There is no real heat in that melodious voice, “Took my expensive ass phone I keep for that purpose.”

“You are not Superman.” Bruce feels as if he will die. Honestly.

“No shit.” Clark roars out a carefree laugh and shakes his head at Bruce. “What drugs are you on, Mr. Wayne?”

“Oh sweet Jesus.” Bruce clutches his head in his hands.

“This will help,” Donner wanders over and hands Bruce some pills, “I get headaches after my ruts too, thanks for lunch Brucie babe.” He then turns to Clark. “You better call me.”

“Will do, babe,” Clark’s tone is sincere, but he will never call Donner, just pass his private, unlisted number on to god knows who in exchange for some valuable journalistic information.

“Give me that,” Clark reaches for the bottle in Bruce’s hands, “Don’t take any pills to curb your pain. Natural is better.”

“Uh huh,” Bruce could cry. He will cry.

“Is there someone I can call? An omega?” Clark looks worried, “Who did you spend your rut with?”

“I don’t know. An alpha female I think.”

“Oh dear god,” Clark looks furious. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce honestly doesn’t understand this new, more complicated gender spectrum very well. “Maybe it was fun.”

“An omega is the best thing for an alpha.” Clark snaps, “Call me old-fashioned but that alpha/alpha nonsense doesn’t make sense. It’s okay for them to get married if they love each other but they need an omega once in a while.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” Bruce feels sick. The thought of anyone other than Clark as Superman is nauseating.

“You think?” Clark looks annoyed. “How long has it been since you’ve had an omega?”

“I don’t know.”

“I might just hit you.”

Bruce laughs hysterically because Clark isn’t Superman and the threat is silly now.

“Let’s go,” Clark starts leading Bruce toward a random direction.

“Bathrooms are the other way,” Bruce lets Clark drag him away from their VIP table. Waiters stare judgementally. Bruce could buy and sell them all so whatever. He’s having an existential crisis damn it.

“No wonder you are having delusional thoughts.” Clark leads Bruce toward a toilet so clean people could eat off it, and lets him dry heave in it. “Me as Superman. What nonsense.”

“Please stop talking.” Bruce begs.

“Someone needs to tell you what’s what.”

“I already pay a person to nag me.”

“Can I call that person to come get you?”

The thought of Alfred hearing of this makes Bruce want to disappear from all realities so no. He would like to take up residence in this bathroom stall permanently please and thank you.

“Is everything alright, Mr. Wayne?” Maître D’ peaks in, delighted. He can charge the billionaire more, he is sure of it.

“Occupied, get out,” Clark screams.

The beta male quickly obliges.

“Wow, that’s like the quickest anyone’s ever obeyed me,” Clark says thoughtfully as Bruce sobs, “You are good for me.”

 _I tried to kill you with a spear._ Bruce thinks of all the ways his life has gone wrong. He blames his parents for being murdered. He would have recovered so much quicker from this situation if his hormones weren’t out of whack.

“Like maybe you can follow me around and I can finally be taken seriously?” Clark ponders on the possibilities. “Is that what being an alpha is like?”

“I don’t know.” Bruce groans. He’s only been awake in this dimension for like a few hours. He spent a lifetime mastering his emotions and it’s out the window. He is openly crying in a bathroom in front of not-Superman. This is a new low.

“You don’t know what it’s like to _not_ be taken seriously, that’s what.” Clark huffs and then apologizes. “My bad, I am projecting all my problems on you again, and you are clearly keeping everything from me.”

“You have no idea.” Bruce curses his ancestors. They suck.

“Okay, let’s get you home.”

 _Will you fly me to Gotham?_ The Alfred in Bruce’s brain is vicious as Clark uses all his omega strength to haul him up. “Are you staying at a hotel, Bruce?”

Did Bruce think that far ahead? Nah. He just helicoptered his ass over here because Superman is alive and all is well except Superman could be anyone now instead of goody two shoes Clark and Jesus Bruce is going to hurl again.

“You need an omega.” Clark scolds again.

“Are you and Alfred talking?” Bruce has a legitimate question.

“He is right, whoever he is.”

 _We need batbabies._ Alfred yells in Bruce’s mind and he is going to throw up and paint the world with his vomit.

“Control your alpha.” An elderly woman snaps at Clark as he leads the hunched over male out the hotel.

“Yes ma’am,” Clark says politely. “I am trying.”

“Oh screw off,” Bruce tells the lady because nobody talks to Clark like that, he saved the planet.

The woman ignores Bruce because alphas are allowed to behave aggressive and protect their omegas.

“Rude,” Clark chastises Bruce in a rude tone. “Not nice.” He whistles and calls a cab and because of Bruce, a driver is here in record time. “Seriously,” Clark says in wonder, “I might just keep you.”

“Okay,” Bruce rests his forehead against the window and prays for help. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“There is a rock in the Indian Ocean,” Bruce says from where he is curled up on Clark’s awful couch. “I need to get to it.”

“What’s with you and the Indian Ocean?” Clark brings Bruce some tea. “This will help with your hormones.” He blushes some more. “Ma used to make it for dad.”

 _Oh that’s adorable._ “Thank you,” Bruce takes the cup and his nose wrinkles at the pungent smell.

“Now you drink all of it.” Clark orders sternly. “I will know if you don’t.”

“Because you are watching me drink it?”

“Oh I am watching you,” Clark pulls out his laptop. “And I am working. I have a lot of work.” He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes a little. “God I hate these things.”

“How bad is your vision?” The idea of Clark Kent having a human infliction such as far-sightedness is baffling.

“Oh it’s bad.” Clark laughs a little. “Keeps dominants from harassing me too much so I’m happy.”

“Seriously?” Bruce takes another sip of the disgusting liquid and makes a face.

“Oh yes,” Clark is still sitting with his eyes close, “Alphas would hate to have an omega who needs eye care.”

“Wow.” Bruce couldn’t possibly understand anything which lowers Clark’s appeal.

“You’re Bruce Wayne.” Clark reminds the man in his company. “No expense would matter to you. Even worse are those creeps who…” Clark shudders a little, “Have a kink, with the glasses? Ugh.”

“Right,” Bruce frowns. “Who does that?”

“Oh you wouldn’t believe what’s out there, Mr. Wayne. Speaking of kinks, what do you like in _your_ girls?” There is a twinkle in Clark’s now open eyes.

“Oh you wouldn’t want to interview me when I’m incapacitated like this, would you, Clark?” Bruce rests his forehead on his forearm and wonders where it all went wrong. He blames Diana. And his parents. And Alfred.

It’s always Alfred’s fault on some level.

“Many other journalists would.” Clark is furiously typing away on his laptop, no doubt working on another piece. “Can I call Alfred now? Maybe he knows what to do.”

“That eager to get rid of me?”

“I haven’t taken care of an alpha before,” Clark blushes a lot, Bruce has noticed. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Well you gave me this awful tea.”

“It’s my mother’s secret recipe with adjustments and you are feeling better aren’t you?”

Bruce is feeling better. “Adjustments?” He manages to ask. He doesn’t care for any hallucinogens, not that goody, goody Clark Kent has it in him, but still. He has to ask.

“My parents are betas. You are an alpha. You require extra ingredients.” Clark’s face is beet red.

“See you know what you’re doing,” Bruce realizes he’s teasing a little but it’s fun to see farm boy all bothered. “You are ready for your very own alpha.”

“Nuh uh!” Clark gasps a little and gives Bruce a scandalized look. “We aren’t married.”

 _Oh dear._ “It’s the twenty-first century,” Bruce is reasonably sure, “We don’t have to be married to have a little fun.”

“I have to be,” Clark has a determined look on his face. “Ma says my body is sacred.”

“I can show you exactly how sacred it really is.” Bruce isn’t sure why he said that considering he has no idea how a knot works, and judging from the look on Clark’s face neither does he.

It’s the tea.

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark is exasperated. “Why?”

“Well,” Bruce is a playboy, “I like to have fun.”

“You only like girls,” Clark reminds his famous companion, “alpha or omega, and you hate journalists.”

“I do?” Bruce frowns, granted he likes to avoid them as much as possible but Batman’s alter-ego should have a healthy dose of exposure and all that.

“You sure do,” Clark frowns, “So you actually only agreed to this because you find me attractive.”

“What makes you think I find you attractive?”

“You just offered to take me to bed.” Clark’s tone is rushed and the blush has traveled down to his neck. Bruce kind of wants to see how far down it’s gone.

“Maybe I want to make sure the interview goes well.”

“It will go honestly.” Clark manages to sound like Superman without actually being Superman and that’s something.

“Then it doesn’t matter how good the sex is,” Bruce lets out a sigh of relief and Clark looks surprised, “The pressure’s off.”

“This is highly inappropriate.” Clark reminds Bruce. “Feel free to offer any information I can publish by the way.”

“I have a secret for you,” Bruce gestures and Clark inches closer, blue eyes suddenly wide and curious, “I’m Batman.”

That’s it, Clark is laughing so hard his laptop falls off his lap and Bruce has to grab it to keep it from dropping to the floor.

“I made you laugh, now can we do stuff?” Bruce pouts a little when Clark takes his laptop and cackles a little, all omega nervousness at having lost control like that.

“You need to go lie down.” Clark recovers and it’s obvious he’s had to learn how to control his omega instincts as well. He gestures Bruce toward his room. “I will wake you in a few hours and we will try again. You are still confused after your rut.”

“Sure,” Bruce walks into Clark’s room, and a scent hits him, hard. It worse than any hallucinogen he’s had to deal with. It’s a nightmare. His knees buckle and he yelps.

“Bruce?” Clark lets his laptop slide to the tiny sofa and runs toward his guest, “Oh my god.”

“Help,” Bruce hasn’t said that in eons and clutches Clark’s forearm.

“I am so sorry, Bruce, oh shit. Please, just breathe. Just relax. Please. Bruce…”

The world disappears along with all the atmosphere.

\----------

“What happened, Clark? Tell me again please.”

“He just… fainted. I haven’t seen anything like this since grade six.”

“It’s soon after his rut you say?”

“Very soon. Like tomorrow.”

Pacing. Clicking heels. All pounding against Bruce head. Those shoes might as well be walking all over his cranium.

“I think you are hurting him, Lois.” Clark’s voice, a soothing tenor, comes from somewhere far away, and Bruce groans pathetically. “Stop it.”

“Sorry.” Lois doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I can’t believe he made it to your bedroom before I did.” She complains.

“And whose fault is that?”

“I was trying to be chivalrous.”

“Well,” Clark is blushing, Bruce just knows he is. “That’s on you.”

“What happened between you two? What kind of sex did you give him?” Lois accuses.

“Nothing, Lois, geez.”

“I know,” Lois grumbles. “I would have smelled if something happened.”

“You are being silly.” Clark walks over to where Bruce is trying to curl into a small ball and really, he has been beating up Gotham’s scum for two decades now. Does it show? “I think he’s awake.”

“Pity,” Lois huffs and treads over, and makes sure her shoes make a louder, much more obnoxious sound. “I was hoping he died.”

“Lois,” Clark’s tone says it all. “You are jealous.”

“A lunch date and now he’s in your bed; do I need to be jealous?”

“Please stop talking,” Bruce’s head feels as if it will explode.

“I am so sorry,” Clark apologizes, rubbing Bruce’s shoulder, “I didn’t realize the effect my scent would have on you. I have been sleeping here for more than a year now. The room is laced with it.”

“It smells like heaven.” Lois takes a deep inhale. “I could die here.”

“Lois!” Clark makes an embarrassed sound. “Stop it.”

“Why isn’t she affected?” Bruce turns to where Lois is examining Clark’s room, deeply interested in everything.

“Well she’s probably been to training school as a teen.” Clark’s hands feel so good on Bruce’s body. “Didn’t you go?”

“Maybe he opted not to?” Lois’ tone is acidic. “Maybe it’s more fun when rich alphas don’t have to bother controlling their instincts around unsuspecting omegas.”

“Lois, he’s not like that.” Clark says firmly, “I feel very safe around him. You know he wouldn’t be in my apartment otherwise.”

 _More alpha/omega malarkey._ Bruce thinks as he sits up. “I can get my own omegas, Miss Lane.” He throws out and it has the desired effect. Lois looks thoroughly peeved.

 _So alphas are trained at a young age to control themselves around omegas, figures_ , Bruce thinks as he uses every bit of his League of Shadows training to calm himself. Clark’s scent is too powerful here. It’s frankly too much. Enough to kill him above certain amounts.

Batman died of hormones. Joker would have a field day.

“Do you need anything?”

“I need water.” Bruce replies honestly.

“I will bring you some tea.” Clark runs out before Bruce can protest, and just the thought of that repulsive taste makes him want to hurl all over everything.

“You get his mother’s tea.” Lois narrows her eyes. “Aren’t you the player?”

“Miss Lane,” Bruce starts to say.

“He is so pure.” Lois is so emotional she has to pause to take a deep breath and inhale Clark’s sweet scent to calm her. “You have no idea.”

“I do, actually.” Bruce has seen the guy sacrifice himself for humanity. No one gets any purer than that.

“Keep your hands to yourself.” Lois’ tone is threatening.

“What is it do you think I am doing here?” Bruce’s tone is curious.

“You are in his bed.” Lois taps her heel. “You tell me.”

“You can have him,” Bruce raises both hands in surrender. He remembers Clark’s ring on her finger. Looks like in this reality it will be her ring on his finger. He just wants to make things right. Whatever that means.

“He’s not an object!” If looks could kill!

“Look at the damn time.” Bruce gestures to the bedside clock. “It’s too early for feminism.”

“Here you go,” Clark wanders in and there’s honest to god pancakes in his other hand, “This is my own recipe so you be nice. Lois, yours are waiting outside.”

“Can I not drink this?” Bruce murmurs at the foul smelling cup as Lois storms out in search of pancakes made in record time (it’s been two minutes).

“This is good for your hormones.” Clark promises, “Try the pancakes.”

“It’s nothing compared to Alfred’s recipe.” Bruce shrugs.

“Or my mother’s,” Clark laughs a little. “A little rushed.”

“They are perfect,” Lois says with a lovesick grin from the door and Clark bows his head and subconsciously massages a crick in his neck. Bruce feels a rush of guilt. The omega had to sleep on the couch in his own home. The man is six feet and that thing outside does not look comfortable.

“We will be late for work,” Lois says authoritatively, “Let’s go.”

“I need Alfred’s number.” Clark watches Bruce chug the sickening liquid with narrowed eyes. “Your phone is locked.”

“Thanks for your hospitality. I will let myself out.”

“What about our interview?” Clark asks earnestly. “You promised.”

“I will call you,” Bruce promises; and then encouraged by Lois’ irritated snarl, channels his inner playboy to the forefront. “Tell me, Clark, do you sleep naked?”

“Umm,” Clark makes incoherent noises.

“The fragrance is really strong.” Bruce winks and makes his way to the bathroom. “I call first shower.” He isn’t sure he can handle Clark going first. Slipping in the bathtub is not something he cares to go through before 8am.

“The nerve of him,” He hears Lois say before he turns the water on and tunes her out.

\----------

“He’s a flirt,” Clark recovers after a moment and catches his breathe. “He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Why are you putting up with it is the bigger question.”

“He’s a recluse, Lois.” Clark looks over to where his bed is slept in, by an alpha. His sheets will smell like Bruce for days, even if he bleaches them. “This interview would be phenomenal for me if I manage to get it.”

“He only agreed to it because he wants to get into your pants.”

“He’s not like that.” Clark turns to where Lois is furiously stuffing her face with pancake. “Oh, you are cute when you are jealous.”

“I’m also dangerous,” Lois warns.

“You better protect me from big bad Bruce Wayne,” Clark steps close to Lois, letting her wrap her arms around him.

“It’s not a joke, Clark.” Lois seethes, “You don’t know guys like him. He could take advantage of you.”

“Lois,” Clark grabs the alpha’s hand and kisses it, making her grin, “I may not have been doing this as long as you, but I know I’m not his type. He likes girls. You should be more worried than me.”

Lois scoffs. “He can try.”

“He just flirts,” Clark shrugs, “He’s harmless. Believe me.”

“Fine,” Lois still doesn’t sound convinced. “If something happens I might just challenge him to a fight.”

“Don’t do that, babe.” Clark gives the closed bathroom door a sympathetic look. “Poor guy is so spoiled. You might really hurt him. He hasn’t even had alpha training as a child. He doesn’t even know how to control his instincts.”

“Oh come on,” Lois leads Clark toward the front door, handing him his coat. “You want to see him get beat up. Wipe the smug look off his face. Admit it.”

“I want no such thing. He’s actually kind of sweet. Delusional, but sweet.” Clark protests Lois, “I haven’t had my shower yet.”

“I like your scent. I could bathe in it.”

Clark hates the way he always blushes. “At least let me spray some neutralizers.” The last thing he needs is some aggressive alphas assaulting him because he smells overly fertile. Experience reminds him not everyone is as controlled as Lois, or as naturally uninterested as Bruce.

\----------

Bruce finds himself jerking off in Clark’s shower like a horny teenager. He pointedly thinks of all the girls he’s been with and _not_ Clark. That’s not something he wants to indulge in. Experimentation in college aside, this new gender spectrum is new to Bruce and he doesn’t care to scar a human being because he doesn’t quite get how his penis works yet. Ugh.

And it’s Superman. Bruce doesn’t care who’s flying around in cape all over these skies. As far as he’s concerned, Clark Kent is Superman, and he needs someone safe and protective like Lois Lane to keep him from, well, an early grave.

 _Maybe this is better,_ Bruce gives Clark’s cozy, lived in bedroom a guilty look, _He’s alive and in love. Why should I take that away from him?_

Insult to injury Bruce has to use Clark’s towels and walk out to his seductive omega scent to reach his phone again.

“Master Wayne. Good morning.”

Bruce seats himself on Clark’s unmade bed and sighs into his phone. “Alfred…”

“I will arrange a ride home.” Alfred will always know Bruce’s tone and what to do.

“You do that.”

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

Alfred who has been through the start of the whole bat vigilante issue makes a tired, dry sound, “Oh I can handle it.”

“I don’t trust the phones.”

“It’s your personal encryption, Master Wayne. I doubt anyone but you could get through it.”

“I will see you in a few hours.”

Lunch is waiting for Bruce when he arrives home, along with… tea. “What is this?”

“It’s Martha’s recipe.” Alfred doesn’t bother giving Bruce a look. “It should help with the memory loss.”

 _Does every family have a recipe or what?_ Bruce shakes his head and braves himself to take a sip. It’s… soothing and familiar even when Bruce hasn’t had this ever. His body knows this. It recognizes Martha Wayne’s personal touch.

“Explain,” Alfred orders and Bruce finds himself babbling the truth.

“Should I contact a doctor?” Alfred is right to be worried. Bruce sounds both stupid and insane.

“No it’s for real.” Bruce promises. “Superman died and I came here and now it’s someone else.”

“You knew Superman personally in this other reality of yours?” Alfred’s never-ending ability to humor Bruce is a lifesaver.

“Well…” Bruce wouldn’t say personally.

“What gender was he? An alpha I presume?”

“See…” Bruce laughs nervously. “We just had men and women over there. This alpha and omega thing is kind of new.”

“And betas.” Alfred is visibly offended. “We exist too, Master Wayne.”

“Well of course,” Bruce hasn’t even been here a full day and has committed a major faux pas. “Sorry.”

“Society would crumble without us.” Alfred looks ready to throw another fit and Bruce better nip this in the bud.

“Well in our world everyone’s kind of a beta so society is built of betas.”

“We are common and not important everywhere.” Alfred huffs. “I get it.”

 _Oh god does every gender have a complex here?_ Bruce grabs his skull and massages it, trying to alleviate the tension building there. “I hate my life.” He complains.

“Must be hard, being on top of the food chain,” Alfred rolls his eyes. “I am so sorry for you, Master Wayne. Did you meet Superman?”

“He’s not actually Superman? Does your beta brain not comprehend?”

“And what gender is he?”

Bruce isn’t sure he should answer judging by the calculating, shrewd look on Alfred’s face. “What does that matter?”

“Answer the damn question, Master Wayne, what gender is the Superman in question.”

“He isn’t superman.” Bruce shrugs, “And he’s an omega, who cares.”

“You were with an omega male last night.” Alfred looks as if he will have a coronary and drop to the floor. “Oh my, you _are_ from another dimension. Such a thing hasn’t happened in decades. Oh I must inform your father.”

“Umm, what?”

“Oh I am making the call whether you like it or not.” Anyone other than Alfred and they would be giddy. Alfred’s just mildly thrilled. “Oh dear we’re getting grandbabies.”

“My father’s alive?”

“Well of course he is.” Alfred scoffs. “You did this whole Batman thing to stick it to the old man.”

“Oh god I can’t with this.” Bruce is starting to fully grasp the idea of a parallel universe.

Alfred makes a thoughtful sound, ignoring his charge’s dramatics. “What shall we name the baby? Something with a D?”

“What is it?” They are clearly on speakerphone.

Bruce feels an emotional attack coming on at hearing his father’s voice.

“Oh a miracle has happened I could just die.”

“Bruce has been caught,” Thomas makes an annoyed sound on the other end, “Batman’s public incarceration on channel six news.”

“Dad,” Bruce feels tears falling down his cheeks and there’s no controlling this reaction.

“We are getting grandbabies.”

“Alfred,” Thomas tsks, “You need therapy. This whole Batman thing is your fault.”

“He was with an omega male last night.” Alfred could die with joy, or whatever the dry British equivalent of it is, “They are so much more fertile!”

“Oh Jesus,” Thomas takes a pause to consider this new, dangerous information, “Bruce what did you do?”

“Dad,” Bruce can’t handle this.

“Martha isn’t here to rein him in,” Thomas sighs audibly over the phone, “An alpha needs his mother.”

“Her passing has had an effect.” Alfred’s tone is solemn.

“The last thing we need is him making a bigger mess than usual. Don’t let him ruin some poor omega male’s life, Alfred.”

Alfred takes this as permission to start building a nursery. “Oh you are most kind, sir.”

“I love you, dad,” Bruce chokes out.

“Umm,” Thomas sounds incredibly worried, “Keep me posted on his condition, Alfred.” The last time Bruce said those unholy words was when Thomas found the damn bat cave.

After his father has hung up in annoyance, Bruce lets out an awed sound. “My dad is alive.”

“And in good health,” Alfred confirms.

 _Why would I ever leave here?_ Bruce wonders. How could he possibly deny himself this?

No wonder Alfred treats him differently. Bruce is a spoiled brat here, well even more so than usual. He has a parent’s love.

 _God is there a dimension out there where both my parents are alive_? Bruce wonders as Alfred takes his temperature and escorts him to bed because he needs a nap before his _night time activities begin._

 _It isn’t mine._ Bruce thinks regretfully before he suits up for the night. _My world is waiting. I have to go back._

 

 

 


End file.
